


His Mockingjay

by ObsydianDreamer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Gen, Nations Interacting with Their People, Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsydianDreamer/pseuds/ObsydianDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Panem, and His Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His Mockingjay

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bendsy for Beta-Reading.

_"I really am spectacular, am I not?"_ Panem thought proudly as he looked over his beautiful capital city. The light cast by the colourful and bright neon lights below illuminated the city below, making it shine against the night sky.

The Capitol really was Panem's crown jewel. It was a place of indulgence and pleasure, where people spent their mortal lives in comfort and bliss.

But underneath the beauty and majesty of the apparent heaven lay something sinister. Something everyone in the Capitol apart from Panem seemed oblivious to.

The pain and suffering of the Districts.

He was their nation, and as such, he felt all of their pain. Most of the time, the causes couldn't be helped; a failed harvest that lead to malnutrition, an illness that tore through the poorer districts leaving many dead. As sad as it was, there was never anything that one could do.

Well, never anything that he could do. Coriolanus Snow always kept him confined to the Capitol.

It was a horrible feeling; always sensing the suffering of his people, all the time, and being unable to do anything to help them. It had driven him mad a long time ago, destroying any sense of sanity he had left after the Independence Wars and the Dark Days that had followed.

In order to save himself, Panem had long since learned to block it all out.

The famines, the illnesses, the disasters, all of it. Call him sociopathic, but he knew it was the only way he could survive. He would just disregard it all; Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

And most of the time, it worked. Most of the time, he carried on like everyone else in the Capitol; happy and content in their own sheltered little worlds.

Most of the time.

But not all of the time.

There was one source of sorrow that was always constant, always there.

The Hunger Games.

Panem let his mind wander back to the memory from over seventy four years earlier.

_The Dark Days had just ended, the rebelling districts conquered and defeated, at the mercy of the Capitol. The war generals and politician's were celebrating, congratulating each other on a fantastic victory._

_But not Panem._

_Instead, he sat quietly in the corner of the meeting room, nursing his injuries. He felt torn and broken; his own people had risen up and fought against him._

_Some had even tried to destroy him._

_He didn't even understand why. He always did everything he could for them, trying to make life better. He felt a wave of anger and jealously pulse through him as he thought back to the previous nation-tan, America. From the day they were born, his people had loved him unquestioningly, proud to be part of the nation. And when the final battle between Panem and America came, many of his citizens died for his cause, even though they fought on the losing side that could not have won._

_"Why can't my people be the same?" Panem often thought, bitterly._

_He was pulled out of his thoughts when Cygnus Snow called for attention. He was a lean, tall man with strikingly white hair and more ambition than anyone else Panem had ever seen._

_"If I can have your attention!" Cygnus called, and everyone went silent. "We have won our greatest victory in the history of the nation-"_

_The President's speech was interrupted by cheers._

_"I know. It is indeed great. We may have beaten our foes, but we cannot let them forget about what they've done. They threatened the stability of the country, and for that they must pay."_

_"What are you proposing?" One of the army commanders asked._

_"A game." The President replied._

_Murmurs broke out among the crowd._

_"A game, in which twenty-four teenagers, a boy and a girl from each remaining District, compete against each other in a death match until one remains." Cygnus explained, rather calmly. "The one survivor gets to go home."_

_The quiet murmuring stopped and everyone instantly went silent. No one had any idea what to say about the idea._

_"Think about it." Cygnus continued, undaunted by the silence. "Just one game and they'll never uprise again. They'll see what we can do to them, and how lucky the rest of them are for our mercy."_

_"But...But...They're just children." One of the politicians countered._

_"The children of terrorists, dissidents and criminals." Cygnus shot back. "One game and they'll never forget. Now, let's vote on it."_

_Rather reluctantly, all of them apart from Panem voted._

_The results were tied._

_Cygnus turned to Panem, a mildly frustrated look on his face. "It's up to you, Panem."_

_Panem wasn't sure what to say. Morally, it wasn't right to execute twenty-three children just to make everyone else suffer._

_He never was one for morals though. He was one for vengeance._

_And he craved revenge, even if it was against his own people. They had fought him, tried to destroy him, just to benefit themselves. They had no faith in him at all. And after all, they weren't really his citizens if they didn't like him, were they? And if they weren't his citizens, why should he care?_

_A vicious smirk crept onto Panem's face._

_"I think it's a good idea, Cygnus."_

Panem always felt guilty over the day where he let his rather petty grudge interfere. He had hurt his people, and he would never forgive himself for that.

Perhaps because of his guilt, no matter what he did, he was never able to escape the emotions that the Game caused. He felt the distress and despair of the parents that had their children taken away, and the torment of having to watch them compete for their own lives.

He felt the grief of having them come home in wooden boxes.

It was the same every year. For weeks after the games had finished, the people felt miserable, sad and hopeless.

And, as consequence, so did Panem. He avoided the after-games parties and presentations, preferring the solitude of his apartment.

But this year, something was different.

For the first time in 74 years of games, there had been two victors. He remembers watching in on the TV vividly. The announcers had said that only one of them could be a victor. Rather than killing each other viciously, like the Gamemakers had hoped, they both put deadly night-lock berries into their mouths.

If both couldn't go home, then no one would. They were playing the Game on their terms, not the Capitols.

It was the first public act of rebellion Panem had seen in a long time.

Of course, the Gamemakers quickly revoked the rule and announced that they had both won. Seneca Crane had lost his life because of it, and the Capitol quickly went into damage control. The Capitol reported to the Districts that the two were star-crossed lovers, who were so completely in love that they couldn't bear to live without each other.

The Capitol bought it.

The rest of Panem knew better though.

This time, the aftermath of the Games had a different feel. No longer were the people scared, hopeless and miserable. This time, they were angry, rebellious, and for the first time in a long time, they were hopeful.

And that gave Panem hope as well.

The spark that was Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, had the power to set everything ablaze. And now, it was only a matter of time.

Coriolanus Snow however, was doing everything in his power to quell the flames before they started. Coriolanus was a ruthless man, even more so than his father, Cygnus. He would let nothing get in his way and take away his power, going so far as to kill potential rivals with poison.

Panem knew this first hand. More than once the President had tried to poison him, but to no effect; Panem's healing factor took care of that.

While he need not worry for himself, Panem was worried for Katniss. Like every other human, she was mortal, susceptible to injuries and sicknesses. And after her rebellious act in the Games, Snow was no doubt planning something to get her out of the way.

Panem couldn't allow that to happen. If Katniss was indeed the start of a revolution, then she would need all the support she could get to start the rebellion. She's changed the people, and she's changed him too.

That's why Panem was at the banquet tonight.

For the first time in seventy-four games, Panem had decided to attend the Victors Banquet, which this time was also doubling as an engagement party for Katniss and Peeta.

He never attended the banquets, but this time, he had to. He had to meet the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay, for himself.

Turning around, he walked back into the great banquet hall of President Snow's mansion. It was decorated extravagantly, even for a Capitol event. The high roof was painted to look like the stars above, and tables were lined with delicious and exotic foods.

Panem scanned the room, looking for the girl. He spotted her on the dance floor in the centre of the room, dancing with someone, surrounded by other couples.

As he moved toward her, he noticed that the man she had been dancing with was none other than Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker. Rumour had it that Plutarch was a rebellious man; Panem was sure that he could be a trustful ally if a rebellion was to occur.

Panem arrived just as Plutarch went to leave.

"May I have a dance?" Panem asked confidently. She looked bothered for a moment, but then smiled a fake smile and replied.

"Of course."

Nodding in reply, Panem took her hand and they started to dance to the slow, dreamlike music. She was wearing a vibrantly red dress, multilayered at the bottom to resemble flames. On her sleeve, near her shoulder, the famous golden Mockingjay pin resided.

"Who are you?" Katniss asked, rather bluntly. Panem could tell that she didn't want to be there, surrounded by the crowds of Capitol citizens.

"Ares Jackson." Panem replied, using his human cover-up name. "A high up government official."

"High up?" She continued, slightly curious.

"Technically, I'm higher than the President." Panem said, casually.

Katniss looked straight at him in disbelief, like he was a crazed madman. Panem couldn't help but smile at her response.

"It's true! He likes to think that he's the one in power, but really, this is my country."

Katniss, however, seemed unconvinced. Instead, she turned her attention back to dancing. They didn't talk for a minute until Panem continued the conversation.

"You've set everything ablaze, you know." He said, thoughtfully.

"What?" Katniss replied, doing her best to look surprised.

"Don't play dumb. You've started a rebellion."

Katniss' eyes went wide, and she looked around at the other dancing couples frantically, checking to make sure that no-one else had heard.

"Don't worry; I'm on your side." Panem said, and he meant it.

This girl was going to lead the Revolution, he could feel it. Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, was going to unite the rebels and overthrow the Capitol, he knew it. Katniss, meanwhile, looked like she was summing him up, not sure whether to trust him or not.

"You really think so?" She asked quietly. Her voice was level, but had a tinge of doubt to it.

"I know so. You're going to change this country. I can feel it." Panem whispered as the music started to stop. Twirling her one last time, he beamed with happiness; things really were going to change, and hopefully for the better. "I'll let you get back to your fiancé now. Until next time, my Mockingjay."

Without another word, Panem turned around, walking away from the dance floor and out of the hall. His head was full thoughts, and for the first time in a long while, he opened his mind to the emotions of his people. He felt the usual spectrum of emotions; sadness, misery, anger, the occasional twinge of happiness. But the people were changing, he could tell, and they all agreed on one thing.

There was a rebellion coming.

The Mockingjay was going to lead it, liberating the Districts from the cruel Capitol.

His Mockingjay was going to stop the Games and save them all.

He knew it.


	2. Her Nation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bendsy and Lily Icerem for Beta reading.

_“I don’t believe this,”_ Katniss thought, as she made her way down to the holding cells of District Thirteen.

She’d just been summoned down to the cells by the guards, where they were keeping a man that had fled from the Capitol. Apparently, he’d just walked straight up to the gates, completely dressed in Capitol fashion, and asked to be let in so he could talk to the Mockingjay.

To make it even more unbelievable, they’d believed him and let him in.

_“He must be important,”_ Katniss reasoned with herself. _“Otherwise, they just would have killed him on sight.”_

As a general rule, Katniss did not normally trust people, especially people from the Capitol.

Because of that, the whole idea of meeting the Capitol escapee made her feel uneasy. The man was most likely a spy for the Capitol, or else working with them to somehow bring down the rebellion.

Arriving at the cellblocks, a guard by the name of Tobias checked her security pass and started leading her towards where the man was being kept.

“What’s he like?” Katniss asked the guard as they walked. Tobias was a man who looked to be in his mid thirties, with short blonde hair.

“He’s a bit strange,” Tobias replied. “But I think he genuinely wants to help.”

_“Genuinely wants to help?”_ Katniss thought to herself. _“I’ll be the judge of that.”_

Eventually, the two of them reached the cell where they man was being kept. Unlocking the door, Tobias said one last thing before they went in.“I should probably tell you that he might not be in a great condition. A few of the guards shot him when they first saw him, and although we treated him, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was unconscious or dead by now.”

Katniss nodded in understanding. She should have known that they wouldn’t have just let a Capitol man in.

Stepping through the door and entering the room, the two of them found the man to not be injured or comatose at all. Instead, he was pacing around the room, a slight bounce in his step as if he was rather excited.

Noticing the new arrivals, the captive turned around and greeted them, a smile on his face.

“My Mockingjay!”

Katniss froze in place.

It was him. The man from the banquet, Ares Jackson. The one who told her that she had started a revolution, and that he was on her side.

Ares took a few steps forward, closer to Katniss. “I knew you’d do it!” Ares cried out ecstatically. “Even after Snow put you in the seventy-fifth Games, I still knew you were going to start the rebellion!”

Katniss couldn’t help but smile a little at the man’s enthusiasm. He’d been a little more composed at their last meeting, at the victor’s banquet. 

“Ares Jackson,” Katniss managed to say, still surprised. “From the Victor’s banquet.” 

The man grinned before speaking again, his voice quieter. “I’m glad you remember me. I’ve decided to come and help the rebellion; I’ve never belonged in the Capitol and for too long I’ve and done nothing while the people have suffered.”

The first time she’d met him, Katniss hadn’t noticed, but this time she did; Ares Jackson looked nothing like a Capitol citizen. 

He was a rather tall man, with a strong build and calloused hands that could only have come from years of tough work. He had striking purple eyes, but they somehow looked natural, and not the work of one of the Capitols beauticians. His hair was an ordinary chocolate brown, and not dyed or cut in an unusual fashion, although he did have a flick of hair at the front which seemed to defy gravity and stand up on its own.

The most prominent feature though was a deep scar that ran down the left side of his face, from the top of his eye right down to his jaw line. Any other Capitol citizen would have had surgery to hide such an injury.

But not Ares.

Katniss wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to trust him. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t like the other Capitol citizens, in appearance or attitude, or because the first time she’d meet him, she’d felt like she’d known him her whole life. Whatever the reason, Katniss had a gut feeling that told her to trust Ares Jackson.

So she would.

She turned to Tobias to tell him to let Ares go, but the guardsman looked completely shocked.

“How are you walking?” Tobias managed to splutter out. ”Scratch that, how are you even alive? When we brought you in here, you were full of bullets and barely breathing!”

Katniss only then remembered the guard telling her that Ares had been shot. Pulling back his suit jacket, she found his white undershirt completely soaked in blood. 

“Get a medic.” Katniss ordered. Tobias was about to leave when Ares stopped him.

“No. I’m fine, really,” Ares claimed, before lifting up the ruined undershirt to expose his abdomen. “Seriously, look.”

She expected to see him covered in deep bullet wounds. Instead, he was completely fine; there wasn’t a scratch or bruise or any kind of injury on his skin.

Katniss took a step back, startled and confused. It didn’t make any sense; no one should have been able to survive that many bullets, yet here he was, entirely uninjured.

Before she could say anything though, Tobias had pulled out his gun and aimed it straight between Ares’ eyes. Ares just muttered something about, _“Why does this happen every time?”_

“What are you?” Tobias demanded to know. “Some kind of muttation? An abomination cooked up in the Capitol labs?”

“I can explain,” Ares replied, his voice level. “You might not believe me though.”

Katniss desperately wanted to know. “Go on. Tell your story.”

“Well,” Ares started, as if he’d told the story many time before. “I’m not actually human. I’m a nation.”

“A nation?” Tobias said, sceptically. It was clear by his tone that he thought that Ares was crazy.

“Yes, a nation. Well, technically, a personification.” Ares continued. “Every nation on Earth has a personification, a representative of the people. They’re ageless, and can only die when their people stop identifying themselves as part of the country. They can’t die any other way; they just heal.”

“And you claim to be one of these nation-people.” Tobias stated.

“Indeed. The Republic of Panem, at your service.” He bowed as he said it.

Katniss wasn’t sure what to think. The whole idea of a nation having a personification seemed absolutely impossible. Yet, at the same time, it made sense; it explained how he survived the injuries, and how she felt an inexplicable trust for the man. Looking over at Tobias, Katniss knew he was just as conflicted as she was.

A silence filled the room, and Katniss tried to think what to say. “So that’s what you meant when you said you were higher than the President.” Katniss mentioned, remembering back to the first time they’d met.

The man apparently named Panem smiled a little. “Yeah. Snow might be the President, but ultimately, he has no control over me. He never liked that though, not having complete power. Most of the time, I would just obey, because I had no choice, but every now and again, I’d kick up a fuss and remind him that I had not given up.”

Now, there was no doubt in Katniss’ mind. As unlikely as it seemed, he was the nation, her nation. “You really are Panem, aren’t you?”

“I will admit that I have not been a very good representative of the people for the past 76 years or so.” Panem said quietly, his tone apologetic. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t my fault because Snow was keeping me prisoner, but that’s just another excuse. That’s why I’m here now. I had to do something.”

“How did you get here?” Tobias asked, finding his voice again. “You said that Snow was keeping you prisoner.”

“He was,” Panem replied,” But as of late, he’s been too preoccupied dealing with the uprisings and Peeta and the other tributes. One afternoon, just over a week ago, I just slipped out and left.”

Katniss felt a pang of sadness flow through her. The Capitol still had Peeta, and she knew that they were torturing him for information he didn’t have.

“Hey, Mockingjay,” Panem said, turning to Katniss. He seemed to know exactly what was upsetting her. “Don’t worry. I know where they’re keeping Peeta and the others.”

“Really?” Katniss whispered, not liking how desperate she sounded at that moment. Taking both of her hands into his, Panem looked her straight in the eyes before he spoke.

“I overheard Snow talking with his officers. Hopefully, they won’t have moved him after my escape. I know how important he is to you though, and I promise, we’ll get him back alive.”

Katniss wasn’t sure how the nation could promise something like that, but she believed him.

She believed in her nation, for perhaps the first time in her life. And now that the nation was on their side, the rebellion was going to win.

She could feel it.


	3. Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Baylee Shadow and Bendsy for Beta-reading.

Panem was sitting alone in his room in the former President’s mansion, slaving over some paperwork that the new President, Alma Coin, had sent for him to do. Freeing a country was harder work than the rebels had anticipated, and because of that, everyone was working much longer than usual.

He couldn’t concentrate properly though. Inside his head, he could feel the pain his people were suffering. While overthrowing the Capitol would eventually make things better in the long run, in the short term, war only brought misery and hurt.

There were people mourning the loss of their loved ones, on both the District and Capitol sides. Some, who had been lucky enough to have their families survive, had still lost their homes or livelihoods to the bombings that had taken place all across the country.

With all the pain and hurt, it almost felt like nothing had changed at all.

_“It has to get better than this.”_ Panem told himself, over and over, like a mantra. _“It has to. It has to.”_

Panem would have blocked it all out, just like he used to, had it not been for the slivers of hope he could feel underneath all of the negative emotion; tiny bits of faith and hope that were steadily growing greater every day. For the first time in over a century, his people were starting to believe in him again.

The thought made Panem smile. 

Focussing on the good, Panem turned back to his work when he heard the door to his room creak open. Turning around, he found the small figure of Katniss Everdeen tiptoeing into the room.

She’d been so different after the parachute incident claimed her sister. Gone was the brave, determined young heroine who had led the rebellion that freed the country from the tyrannical Capitol. Now, she was just a shell, her will crushed and psyche broken. Her eyes had a hollow look to them, and she looked much thinner and worn out than ever before.

Silently, Katniss crept into the room, looking rather anxious, before she pulled herself up on the edge of his bed.

This wasn’t new. It was a common routine she seemed to repeat; she’d search through the mansion, trying to find small hiding places where she could curl up and stay for hours until somebody found her.

That somebody was usually himself or Haymitch, another victor from District Twelve who’d essentially become Katniss’ carer. 

When she wasn’t hiding inside an old wardrobe or abandoned bathroom, she’d wander aimlessly around the mansion, often stopping by his room. Whenever she did, Panem would let her in, the mental state of his Mockingjay taking temporary precedence over some paperwork Coin had left him to finish.

Sometimes, when she was there, he’d try to talk to her. He never quite knew what to say to her, so he’d talk about trivial things; about the weather, about books, about _anything_ to try and take her mind off things and get her talking again. It never worked though. Try as he might, Katniss never spoke a word or made any kind of reply back.

He often found himself wondering what she was thinking. Was she angry? Did she blame him for what happened to her sister?

_“She’s wondering if I was worth the sacrifice,”_ Panem thought. _“I did this to her.”_

He glanced sadly at the band around Katniss’ wrist that marked her as Mentally Disorientated. Everything that had happened to her was his fault. If he’d actually done his job as a nation and stood up to protect his people all those years ago, everything to do with the Hunger Games would have been averted.

But what is done is done; now, he could only hope that someday she’d forgive him.

“Good afternoon, Katniss,” Panem began quietly. He knew he was unlikely to get a response, but still he persisted. “Quite a beautiful day so far, don’t you think?”

Expectedly, Katniss gave no reply. 

Panem sighed. “Katniss, I’m truly sorry about what happened to Prim. She never should have been there, and I’ll understand if you never forgive me for it. Hell, I’ll never forgive myself for the things that I’ve allowed to happen. Just please, don’t shut yourself off from everyone.”

Still, Katniss gave no response or acknowledgement that she’d even heard a thing he’d said. Unsure what to do next, Panem was about to go back to focussing on the paperwork when a quiet voice asked a question.

“D-did you ever have any siblings?” Katniss asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. Her tone was mostly flat, but it had an accusatory quality to it, almost as if she was daring him to say that he had any idea of the pain she was going through.

The question took Panem completely by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to speak, let alone ask such a question. Turning to face her, Panem struggled to find an answer.  
If one was to speak technically, a nation did not have biological parents, and thus, had no siblings. However, older nations frequently adopted younger ones, helping and guiding them. Panem himself had been raised by another nation; his memories of the time were some of his earliest, and fondest. 

_He was so lost._

_He also didn’t really understand what was happening, so that wasn’t making things any easier. Only a few minutes earlier, he’d woken up in the forest, completely confused and alone._

_Apart from that though, he knew very little else._

_He wasn’t human. He knew that much. His name was Panem, and he was something called a nation. Nations were things that were kinda like these other things called humans, except that they lived much longer, and could heal if their connection with their people was strong enough._

_That was another thing that made them different: they represented the humans. Whether humans knew it or not, they had a connection to their country; so long as people kept believing themselves to be part of the nation, the nation would continue to live, and get stronger._

_But right now, Panem was very small and not very strong, and the link with his people was barely a whisper. His nation wasn’t quite properly formed yet, and still dependent on another country, Panem soon realised._

_He’d grow soon though, he was sure. One day, he’d be a big, strong country._

_Continuing to trudge through the dense forest, looking for a way out, Panem was relieved when he saw it start to thin out and turn into open grassland. He was about to cross out into the open when he heard voices. Stopping in his tracks, Panem ducked behind a shrub and waited to hear if the sounds continued._

_From what he could hear, Panem guessed that there were two people. They were talking rather happily, and occasionally laughing, but it didn’t sound like they were coming any closer. One of the voices was louder than the other, but they didn’t seem mean or angry._

_Curiosity getting the better of him, Panem peered out from his hiding space to view the strangers._

_Panem had been right. There were two people out in the field, both males, as far as Panem could tell. They were playing some kind of game, taking turns throwing and catching a ball._

_Panem thought that it looked like fun. He edged forward slightly, to get a better look._

_The louder one of the two had sandy blonde hair that was short, with a flick at the front. He had sky blue eyes, and was taller than the other man, who had longer, messier hair of a similar colour and eyes that were a light shade of violet._

_He had no idea what to do. The two of them seemed nice enough, even though they were so much bigger than him. But even considering that, Panem was still nervous and unsure._

_Deciding that leaving them alone was probably the best option, Panem took a small step back._

_SNAP!_

_Quickly looking behind him, Panem realised that he’d trodden on a stick, breaking it clean in two._

_“Hey Canada, did you hear that?” The blue eyed one called out._

_“Yeah.” The quiet one replied._

_Panic ripped through Panem. They’d heard him. He tried to think what to do next. Should he say there, quiet, and hope they don’t investigate the noise? Or should he try to escape?_

_As the duo started coming closer, Panem decided to take his chances and run._

_Shooting off into the forest at breakneck speed, Panem tried his best to get away. He couldn’t get far though. The undergrowth around the edge of the forest was tough, and he kept tripping. All the while, he could swear they were getting closer. Eventually, Panem gave up on trying to tear his way through the brush and hid himself at the base of a tall tree._

_He waited for a moment, and felt his stomach plummet as the footfalls of the men continued, and grew closer._

_His heart was hammering in his chest. They’d be upon him in seconds, and it was too late to move. All he could do was hope that they didn’t find him._

_A few metres from the tree, the footsteps stopped. For what felt like an eternity, a tense silence hung in the air._

_“We’re not going to hurt you.” It was the quieter one who spoke. “I’m sorry if we frightened you.”_

_The violet-eyed man sounded sincere enough, Panem thought. He couldn’t be sure though, so he kept silent. The man continued to speak in quiet tones._

_“Are you lost? If you are, my brother and I can help.”_

_Panem was definitely lost, he knew that much. It was a far shot, he knew, but maybe they could help him find someone who could explain where he belonged and what exactly he was supposed to do._

_Slowing edging out from behind the tree, Panem came face to face with the two men. The quieter one was a few metres away, crouching down, with a soft smile on his face. The other one wasn’t far behind, and took a few steps forward._

_“He one of yours?” The loud one asked to the quiet one._

_“Not one of my citizens...” he replied. The two brothers stared at each other for a moment, perplexed gazes on their faces, before turning their attention back to him. “What’s your name?”_

_“P-Panem,” He managed to stutter out, still a little worried. “My name’s Panem, I think.”_

_The curious looks on the men’s faces quickly turned to one of pure disbelief._

_“No way,” The louder of the two said, closing the distance between them in a few strides before kneeling down in front of him. He seemed to be inspecting him, as if something about him was particularly strange._

_“It can’t be,” The quiet one whispered from behind._

_“It is,” The loud one replied, starting to smile. “This is so cool! I always wanted a little brother!”_

_“I need you to help me,” Panem cut in, not understanding what the two were talking about. “I woke up here and I don’t know what or where I am...”_

_“You’re a nation, aren’t you?” the loud one questioned after a moment. By the tone of his voice, Panem was sure he already knew the answer._

_“How did you know?”_

_The loud one was really smiling now. “Because we’re nations too.”_

_Panem could hardly believe it. They were nations, just like him! He struggled to contain the excitement and happiness welling up in his chest. “Really?”_

_“Yeah! I’m America, and that’s Canada.” The loud one named America explained. “And you, Panem, are our little brother.”_

Panem snapped out of the memory.

He did indeed have siblings. From the day that they found him, America and Canada treated him like their brother; he lived in America’s house, and the two of them helped to raise him and teach him all the things he need to know to become an influential and powerful nation.

Going by that line of thought, Panem supposed that England would count as a brother as well. The older European nation had frequently visited during Panem’s youth, bringing them news from all of Europe.

“Yes, I did, but not anymore.” Panem started to explain. “I had three older brothers, but now I’m all by myself.” 

Katniss seemed surprised by the answer. Intrigued, she asked another question.

“What happened to them?” 

Panem’s thought’s stopped. They were not memories he liked to look back upon. He’d spent years suppressing and ignoring the persistent flashbacks, but suddenly, they came rushing back.

_“Please, Panem!” he pleaded. “You don’t have to do this...”_

He couldn’t let those memories-

_“Go ahead Panem.” He said, quietly. He was broken and bloodied, and he knew his end was near, but still he stood, proud, brave and as heroic as ever. “I’m not going to fight back.”_

He tried to push them away, but-

_“I should have killed you when I had the chance!” He screamed, his voice full of grief and sorrow, intermixed with absolute fury. Tears rushed down his face. “I swear, I’ll make sure you die for what you’ve done!”_

No.

He couldn’t let what he’d done in the past haunt him now. He had to be strong.

Suppressing the memories once more, he tried to relax. His breathing had become quick and short, and at some point, his hand had moved to the knife he kept with him at all times.

Katniss meanwhile had edged away from him, looking at him with a mixture of concern and unease.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Panem muttered. “Bad memories, that’s all.”

Katniss nodded in understanding, and moved back slightly closer to him. After a moment, Panem continued.

“Two of them died, and the other gave up on me and left.” He stated, as emotionlessly as possible to keep the memories and feelings at bay.

A silence settled between them.

“We’re both alone.” Katniss said after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Panem agreed. “I guess we are.”

It was then that Panem realised how similar he and Katniss were. They were both survivors. They were both tough, and to make it this far, they’d done unspeakable things and lost so much.

But despite that all, they were still here, and they were both going to survive.


	4. Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bendsy for Beta-reading, and to all of you, who have read this fic. :)

It was late in the afternoon when Katniss finally decided to move.

She’d spent most of her day sitting in the same place; in a large cushioned chair by a painted screen, in Panem’s room.

To his credit, the personified nation seemed to understand what she was going through. Katniss could tell from the way that he acted and what he’d told her about his past that he suffered immensely on the inside as well. In fact, the only difference between the two of them in their suffering was that he didn’t show it.

Standing up, Katniss walked out of the room. Behind her, she could hear Panem get up and follow quietly behind her. When she turned to him, he merely shrugged, then spoke.  
“It’s about time I had a break today,” 

Nodding, Katniss continued on.

As she reached the end of the hallway, she stopped. She was on the edge of her quarter boundaries, where Coin kept her. To get back to her room, she’d have to turn right.

Not feeling like going back to her quarters just yet, she turned left.

With Panem still with her, she continued down the corridor. However, she soon found herself lost, not recognising the part of the mansion she’d ended up in. In this part of the mansion, it was deathly quiet, and there were no people around to tell her what to do or where to go.

Katniss made a mental note to remember how to find this place again. She liked it.

Well, she did, until she smelt the roses.

The scent was light and flowery, but to Katniss it was overpowering and terrifying. For her, the smell of roses brought back memories of mutts, and of a President that destroyed her entire world. In a panicked state, she dived behind some thick curtains, her legs shaking too hard to run.

“Katniss!” Panem called, but she didn’t listen, instead she wriggled as far back into the curtains as she could, trying to shut herself off from the smell, the memories, from everything.

There was quiet for a moment, before the curtains shifted a bit to reveal Panem, his purple eyes meeting hers.

“Katniss?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

 _“I will never be ‘alright’. Never again in my life,”_ she thought bitterly, but the best response she could muster was gently shaking her head. 

Panem nodded, and reached out one of his hands for her to take. As he helped her back to her feet, it was only then that Katniss noticed that Panem’s prized knife was in his other hand.

 _“He must have reached for it when I panicked,”_ Katniss thought.

As if he could read Katniss’ thoughts, and tucked the blade back away into its sheath. “I think we should head back,” Panem eventually said, gesturing back toward the way they came. Katniss, however wanted to follow the scent of the roses, to find out where the evil things grew and destroy every last one of them.

She continued down the corridor.

Panem followed behind her.

Eventually, after navigating through the labyrinth of corridors and pathways that made up the Mansion, they came to a door being guarded by two rebel soldiers. As Katniss went to walk past them, they formed an ‘X’ with their guns. One of the rebels, a woman, spoke.

“Soldier Everdeen,” She said. “You can’t go in, President’s orders.”

Katniss didn’t move, instead standing still. She had to go in, to see what was behind the doors.

“Let her go in,” Panem ordered the soldiers. “She deserves to see what’s behind there.”

“On whose authority?” The soldier asked, sceptical. At that moment, Panem took out a letter and showed it to the soldiers.

“Paylor’s,” Panem replied. Upon inspecting the paper, their eyes went wide, before they removed the guns blocking Katniss’ path. 

“My apologies, Soldier Everdeen and Commander Jackson.”

Walking forward, Katniss glanced back at Panem before she went in.

“I’ll wait here,” Panem stated. “Go in and find out what you need to know.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

Katniss sat alone in the room, waiting for the last few minutes to pass before she’d be summoned to Snow’s execution.

Her prep team had worked miracles once again. Her hair, which had been burnt off in patches, had been styled into a perfect braid, and she was in her famous Mockingjay outfit. She had her bow, and a sheath with a single symbolic arrow. And lastly, she had her golden Mockingjay pin; the one Madge had given her all those ages ago, pinned to her chest.

Conflict raged in her head. After her talk with Snow the few days earlier, she hadn’t known what to believe. Surely it must have been the Capitol that dropped the parachutes; surely it must have been some sick, last minute ploy from Snow.

Yet, Snow’s words echoed in her head.

_“Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.”_

Could it really be true? Had the rebels dropped the parachutes? Was Coin behind it all?

Katniss didn’t know what to think anymore. At that moment, the door to the room opened and Panem walked in, dressed for the occasion.

He was in a soldier’s uniform, a ceremonial one that was clean and neat. His hair was slicked back, apart from that one strand, showing off his striking violet eyes. A selection of unusual looking war medals were pinned to his chest, and his knife, the one he never went anywhere without, was in its sheath at his hip, ready to draw within a moment’s notice.

He looked absolutely regal, but also dangerous.

“I didn’t know Coin was handing out medals.” Katniss mentioned, motioning to the medals on his uniform. 

Panem chucked. “She’s not. These are from the Independence War, all those years ago.” He walked over to Katniss, and sat next to her on the couch.

“You look stunning, My Mockingjay,” He said, sincerely. Katniss just nodded absentmindedly.

“What’s wrong?” Panem asked, frowning.

“The Capitol wasn’t behind the parachutes, were they?” Katniss slipped out. She knew she could trust the nation. “The Rebels did it.”

Panem looked confused. “What makes you think that?”

“My talk with Snow,” Katniss replied. “They did it. Coin planned it all. I know she did. She can’t get away with it.”

Silence filled the room, and Katniss could see that Panem was thinking deeply. Minutes ticked away, and before long Plutarch and Effie arrived at the room.

“Time to go!” Effie says. Katniss and Panem stood up to leave, but before they left the room, Panem whispered something to her.

“Do what you think is right,” was all he said. Katniss nodded, and followed Plutarch and Effie.

From there, Katniss was lead through the mansion out to the front doors. She was given a last touch up and instructions before she was sent out.

Thousands of people had turned up to watch the execution. Outside, she heard a cheer go up, and she knew that meant that Coin had arrived. Katniss was surrounded by her team, including Panem, who smiled reassuringly.

Katniss felt a light tap on her shoulder, and she knew it was time. Stepping out into the cold winter sunlight, a deafening roar came from the crowd. 

However, the sound the crowd made for her was nothing compared to the noise they made when guards brought out Snow. People shouted insults and abuse, while others just screamed.

The combined noise was insane.

They tied the former President to a post about ten metres in front of Katniss. Snow didn’t try to struggle, instead just looking at Katniss, a smile forming on his lips.  
The crowd went completely silent as Katniss grabbed the arrow and positioned it, aiming at Snow.

On Snow’s face, there was no fear, no remorse, no anger.

Just amusement.

The thought jumped to her mind again.

_“Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.”_

Another thought joined.

_“Do what you think is right.”_

Katniss smiled, understanding.

The truth was that Snow and Katniss promised to never lie to each other, and that Coin was behind the parachutes.

Pulling the bowstring back, Katniss wheeled around, took aim at Coin and released.

It struck her through the eye, sending Coin over the balcony edge. She plunged to the ground, dead.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The crowd was momentarily stunned, but soon went insane. People ran to try and get out, as guards descended on Katniss.  
It was the moment Panem had been waiting for.

With all his speed, he ran toward Snow, reaching him in a matter of seconds. Snow had been laughing, but as soon as he saw Panem, he stopped.  
A look of surprise and dread was on the former Presidents face.

“P-panem-” Snow tried to say, but Panem cut him off, not interested in any of his excuses.

Snow had to pay, and Panem was determined to make sure he did. Pulling him up to his knees, Panem drew out his knife, and gripped it tightly.

“This is for what you and your father made me do to my friends, my family, and my own people.” Panem said venomously.

And with that, he slashed across Coriolanus Snow’s throat. Crimson blood freely flowed out, drenching Panem.

Snow was dead within seconds.

Panem released the former President’s body, letting it sump on the ground unceremoniously. He kicked the corpse, for good measure.

Never again would he let such a cruel-hearted President lead his country.

Never.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Reading  
> ~ObsydianDreamer


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